


Kids

by deleerium



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Gangs, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Rape/Non-con Elements, Underage Prostitution, Urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-05
Updated: 2006-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:33:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deleerium/pseuds/deleerium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah runs a gang of New York street kids. Orlando's a catholic school boy. Bad, sexy things happen when their paths cross at a party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kids

Elijah wiped the head of his cock with a grubby hand and tucked it in his fly, zipping up with a smirk. "You're still tight. All that selling and you're still that." His voice sounded loud in the dark room, even over Dom's heavy breathing. 

Dom was crouched on the bed, one leg shoved up under his chest, naked from waist to knees. Elijah sneered and smacked Dom on one cheek – hard – his smile growing toothy when he heard Dom groan. "Gotta go. There's a party. Uptown." He scrabbled backwards off the dirty mattress and pushed to his feet, wiping a hand through his hair. "You comin'?" He shrugged into a black jean jacket and walked to the door. 

Dom shifted, straightening his leg, dirty jeans and worn briefs wadded around one ankle. He fumbled under his belly for his own cock and grimaced at the cold pool of come, the limp length of it. Wish I could remember that. He looked over a shoulder at Elijah, his gaze not quite all there. "You got anything? Anything good?" 

"Couple of bumps." Elijah dug in a pocket and tossed a brown vial at Dom. "Not that it'd do you any good." Junkie. "Now." 

Dom didn't flinch when the vial hit him in the shoulder, just pawed after it across the mattress. "That's shit, man." He tugged on the cap and dropped the little bottle. "Fuck." He pushed to his knees, feeling with a hand. And found it, slick with cooling come. "Fuck." Naked from waist to knee, he used his teeth to open it and shoved it up his nose, breathing in – sharp and sure. "Shit." His eyelids twitched and he shuddered, blinking hard. He threw the vial on the floor, where it rolled into a pile of molding fast food wrappers, sticky tissues and the remnants of what used to be a bathroom towel. "That sucked." 

"Beggars and choosers, asshole." Elijah wasn't smiling any more. "You fucking coming or not?" There was more than just sharp command in the sound; there was annoyance. Not that it mattered if Dom came or not. Elijah's gang was mobile. Metamorphic, even - changing street rats like rich dicks changed their ties. Dom had just been around longer than the average rat.

Dom stared at Elijah, the unforgiving set of his jaw, the sharp glass of his gaze. "Yeah, man." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and crawled to his feet, struggling with his clothes. "Yeah, I'm coming. Sure." 

+

Big place. And not too many kids – twenty or so. 

Totally workable. 

Elijah was three feet inside the door when he yanked a beer out of someone's hand, smacking the kid lightly on the cheek when he started to protest. "Thanks, fuckwad." The kid gaped at him. Elijah stared him down until the kid turned away. Dom and Billy push through the door, Sean and the others shuffling behind. Elijah jerked his head towards the room of teenagers, hiding his words behind the first long swallow of beer. "Be friendly. We need cash." 

Elijah drank and watched them move uneasily through the rooms. Sean lighting up in a corner with a chick. Billy and Dom easing into a group on the sleek sofas. He took his time. 

He scanned the room carefully. First the faces, the clothes, the bottles on the counter. Then the white lines of coke sprinting discretely up a few noses. The kids moving in pairs through open and closing doors. Or standing in groups in the shadows at the edges of the room. 

And that's when Elijah saw him. Saw him and stopped. Stopped to stare – dropped his fuck-all, kick-all, take-it-all sneer for a long minute and just fucking stared. 

Because the guy was a genuine, green, grade-A catholic school boy. Mother fuckin' school jacket, tie and everything. Taller than Elijah liked, but thin. Hair like a chick's – dark and curly. I bet he's clean – clean and nervous and new. Crisp, like laundry. And fucking pretty. Really fucking pretty. New penny skin and white teeth and pretty eyes. Pretty like Barbie. The brunette kind. 

Elijah liked 'em pretty. 

But he liked it even better when they were new. 

+

Elijah circled the room in a slow spiral. Shot the shit with a group of guys he recognized from downtown. Bummed another beer and a quick drag from an ugly chick with good legs. But always watching – watching the fold of the prep's gray slacks over his crotch. The way he lounged – casual, like he wasn't the only guy wearing a tie in a room full of drunk, drug-snorting, Broadway wanna-be's. And there was a word for the way the guy moved. A kind of style. 

Elegant – that was it. Elijah got it just before the guy looked across the room. At him. 

Elijah smirked and sucked on the neck of his bottle, his gaze steady as he swallowed. And swallowed again. And again. The catholic school boy flushed and ducked his head. Turned his shoulder in, away from Elijah's stare and sucked nervously on his own beer. 

But Elijah caught him looking again. And a few beers later – again. So fucking easy. I love when they're easy. So he waited, patiently. 

Waited for the first unsteady step from those long legs, excusing himself from the group with some shitty, polite excuse. 

Elijah followed him down the hall. Watched him smile at some blonde slut and then shut the bathroom door. 

Elijah waited outside for a handful of seconds before trying the knob. 

Unlocked. 

Elijah's sneer flashed once before a look of feigned desperation smoothed his features. He pushed open the door. 

+

Orlando's head jerked when the door opened, his eyes wide, his hand holding his cock over the toilet. The need to piss burning under his fingers. "The hell?" 

Elijah shut and locked the door, hiding the quiet snick of the lock with words. "Shit, sorry. I have to fucking piss, man." He was already across the room, his hip nudging at Orlando's, fingers already opening his jeans. 

"Wait half a minute, will..." 

"Can't wait." Elijah pulled his cock out. 

Eyes wide and dilated, Orlando blinked, his next words carrying the tiny slur of one too many beers. "There's no room, man, gimme a sec." 

“There is so. Here.” Elijah pushed into the space between Orlando's hip and the tub, cock pointed at the tub. The stream hit the tile first, trickling down across white porcelain. 

The sound and the soft blanket of alcohol made it easy for Orlando to follow, pissing forever. So long that he almost forgot Elijah was there. Almost. So long he worried that he would piss himself inside out – most of his body into the toilet, with a guy pressed against his ass. 

But all good things come to an end. So he shook. And then froze, strangling on a curse choked off. A curse because there was more than just his hand. 

Elijah hand wrapped around Orlando's cock. 

+

Good, so fucking good. Elijah squeezed Orlando's neck, fingers pressed against his throat. "Help you with that?" He pulled on Orlando's cock, pushing his hand off and away. Pulled slow and hard, knowing that reactions would be slow, knowing how sensation tumbled over on itself if you were drunk -- and there was a hand on your cock. 

Orlando collected enough breath to move. To speak. It felt... "The fuck, man, I don't..." 

Elijah pushed a knee between Orlando's, body pressing against his. "Shhh, fuckin' feels good, you're hard, I can feel it." 

Something about the words clicked and Orlando's body caught up with his brain. He pushed back with a snarl, hand yanking on Elijah's wrist, elbow snapping back, looking for ribs. "Fuckyou." The anger raw and blurred. 

But Elijah felt it coming – felt the wind up of Orlando's muscles for a fight. 

And fighting was something else Elijah loved. 

He twisted away from the blow and shoved Orlando forward, off-balance, hand tight around his throat, pressing his cheek to the patterned wall. "Shut up, preppy," Elijah panted, weight against Orlando, his cock hard against the smooth curve of Orlando's ass. He stroked faster, getting his foot on the toilet, his knee tucked tight against Orlando's balls. 

So good, so good...

Until he heard the helpless sob for breath. Felt something hot hitting his wrist. Fuck. He loosened his grip instantly – hand moving to cup the warm part of Orlando's mouth. 

Elijah gentled his stroke, drawing it out, rubbing his knee against the heat between Orlando's thighs. Whispered, "It's okay, won't hurt you." He sneered at the words, but gentled his touch. He took his time, rubbed his body against the long back. He rubbed his cheek against the padded shoulder of a navy jacket, his hand twisting now, speeding up as the cock in his hand hardened, twitched and hardened more. Slick at the head. "C'mon, s'okay." He stifled a groan when Orlando shuddered and the first spurt slapped down the back of his hand. "Fuck yeah, that's it." He squeezed again and Orlando moaned. 

Gotcha. Elijah pulled Orlando back, upright, stroking until he felt the first hard flinch of Orlando's body, loose and leaning back against him. Elijah tilted his head, nosing the hair at the back of Orlando's neck. Crisp. Like laundry. Only better. Gently, he tucked the soft cock into Orlando's trousers and shuffled him back and around. 

Orlando's cheeks were blood red, his eyes darker than before. Black with surprise, embarrassment and pleasure. He opened his mouth, his arm jerking towards Elijah's wrist. 

Elijah shushed him again and zipped up his trousers. Looking at him – looking his fill, up close. Prettier than that fucking doll. Without warning, Elijah grabbed a handful of Orlando's hair – tight – and pulled him down. Gently. Bit his lower lip and licked over the mark. Kissed him – licking again. "I'm Elijah." 

Orlando blinked. In shock. 

But the door was unlocked – open – and Elijah was gone. 

END


End file.
